Editor's Note

The Charge

"Cheers for Aunti Mira!"

The Case

International film buffs live for films like Women's Prison. This raw,
uncompromising movie highlights the plight of Iranian women by using prison as a
metaphor for women in Iranian society. This social commentary extends to the
literal level as a straightforward expose of conditions in women's prisons in
Iran. Remarkably, veteran filmmaker Manijeh Hekmat is perfectly clear on both
levels while retaining sympathy for her subject.

No ordinary women-in-prison film, Women's Prison is documentary-like
in its dissection of prison life. Tahereh (Roya Taymourian), a devout, imperious
warden who fought in the war and supports the Revolution, butts heads with Mitra
(Roya Nonahali), a young midwife who killed her abusive stepfather. Over the
course of three vignettes set in 1984, 1992, and 2001, the complex relationship
between the warden and her spirited prisoner morphs. A key to their conflict in
each time period is a trio of young prisoners, all played capably by Pegah
Ahangarani. Ahangarani's trio of vulnerable delinquents represent "the
changing situation of young people over the past 23 years" according to
Manijeh Hekmat (as quoted in the fabulous essay "Manijeh Hekmat and Women's
Prison" by Alissa Simon). As the essentially good-hearted Mitra grows ever
more institutionalized, the essentially well-intentioned warden grows more
cynical and harried. Yet both retain their fiery personalities and keep each
other exposed to different viewpoints.

Hekmat's story is engrossing for its sheer anthropological detail. The
culture of the prison changes dramatically in the three time periods, but shocks
permeate each decade. Be it the emotional intensity of a prison birth, the
psychological toil of sodomy, or the heart-wrenching plight of the children we
watch grow up behind bars, Women's Prison spares us no pain. Next to
these generation-leveling inhumanities, subtle details like the political
"crimes" of each decade or proper headgear might seem insignificant.
But such details bring home the massive cultural thrust of Hekmat's story.

Hekmat effortlessly bends the reality into a meta-discussion of Iranian
society. Manijeh Hekmat is an ideal spokeswoman; as a veteran
"assistant" director and producer, she had to lie to obtain a filming
permit to make this debut feature film. By emphasizing simple facts about life
in a fictitious prison, Hekmat throws the absurdity of Iran's culture into high
relief. Should innocent women be denied freedom simply on the word of ruthless
husbands? Should political activists be cloistered with serial rapists and
hardened murderers just because they are women who speak out against an
ideology? Must women cover their heads even when secluded inside a prison
rampant with lice? Hekmat adroitly asks these questions and leaves little doubt
about her answers.

Shot with a minimalist, astute eye, Women's Prison offers the
occasional high-style still. Tahereh's black chador often merges with the
blackness of the prison itself, while Mitra's shaved head is incongruously open
to the sky. A woman walking her last mile leaves a trail of soil in her wake,
with horrified inmates arranged in a sickle at the bottom of the frame. Sadly,
First Run Features offers their usual grainy, non-anamorphic, washed-out
transfer with thin, warbling sound quality. There is a brief director bio and
some supplements on a DVD-ROM.

The leading trio of ladies effectively conveys a complicated emotional
entanglement. With a glance or a set of her lip, Roya Taymourian expresses
totalitarian impatience or periodic human connection. Roya Nonahali crafts an
exhaustive character arc through posture and expression, while Pegah Ahangarani
quickly sketches out three very different—but linked—characters to
represent the outside world. The rest of the cast is serviceable but
unremarkable.

Women's Prison succeeds as pure exploration of Iranian culture,
feminism, and prison life. That it works on a highly complicated metaphorical
level is a bonus. Women's Prison might be most interesting simply for
being made at all and shown to the world, birthed despite the world's most
oppressive culture. Don't let the lackluster DVD presentation dissuade you if
you're up for a dose of sobering reality. By the time Women's Prison
wraps, you'll have experienced an otherwise unknowable culture and been taken
down disturbing emotional paths.